Friday, September 8-5:00 p.m.
(33 hours to go)

Newton figured out that “acceleration” of an object, AKA the change in speed of the object, could be modeled by his relatively simple laws of motion.

(So, you can predict how fast you need to pedal to make the time cut off on the bike?)

Precisely.

(Do you pack anything else?)

I pack salt to prevent muscle cramping.

(What about Gatorade?)

Yes, but that would be provided on the racecourse. I lined the bags up against the wall, right next to the bike for tomorrow’s check in…

(…which you still have not told us how you were planning to get around the prohibition of carrying in a public place on the Sabbath.)

Friday, September 8-7:30 p.m.
(30.5 hours to go)

(Hey, Nice, France is 25 minutes later than the New York/New Jersey area.)

Yes, closer to the equator. We brought tea lights, matches, a challah cover and a kiddush cup with us.

(Matches?)

It’s harder and harder to find matches. Fewer people smoke. All my cigar buddies use lighters.

We laid all the food out on the bed.

(Even the refrigerated stuff?)

Yes! I wanted the kids to see what we had so they could decide what they were having now and what they were having tomorrow for lunch. We used the beds in the adult room as our table.

(You didn’t want to bring your food downstairs?)

We wanted to preserve our own little Shabbos experience for ourselves. I davened. My wife lit her candles. I blessed the kids. I made kiddush and we washed for hamotzi—just like we have done since we became parents 18 years ago. Our kids had grown up with at least one Shabbos a year in a hotel room, so nothing seemed out of place for us.

Saturday,
September 9-7 a.m.
(24 hours to go)

I opened my eyes and looked around my hotel room. Everything in the room was white. The walls, the bed sheets, even the window curtains. It was our third day in Nice, but I guess I had not noticed any of this before. Every day so far had been filled with items on an agenda that kept me from noticing the little details, but now it was Shabbos. Now I had time to just lay in bed and watch the sunlight fall through the window.

Shabbos is the day of rest, Shabbos was also bike check in day at Ironman World Championships. It is always on Shabbos.

(But you can’t move your bike on Shabbos.)

I made a friend at the hotel. They helped me.

(I’m surprised, I tell you.)

That people would help me?

(That you made friends with perfect strangers, in a foreign country.)

When we checked in two days ago, I saw people in the lobby wearing Ironman finisher shirts from events I had completed, so I introduced myself.

(But how did this help you?)

I had to move my bike and my transition bags, on Shabbos, to “check in” and my new friend offered to help me.

(Help how?)

My new friend said to me, “Oh, you’re Orthodox. You can’t carry on the Sabbath. Do you want me to help you check in on Saturday?”

“Yes, thank you and how did you know?”

“I work in New York; everyone knows Orthodox Jews can’t carry or use your phone or drive on the Sabbath.”

(They do?)

What was I gonna do, argue with my new “Shabbos goy”?

(What were you going to do if you didn’t make a friend?)

I would have asked a hotel staff member to help me.

(But that only gets you to the fenced area. Non athletes are not allowed inside. Then what was your plan?)

If it came to that, the volunteers at the bike check-in would have assisted me. These are the issues that a shomer Shabbos triathlete must recon with.

I spoke about this in my first article in The Jewish Link back in 2015. It was titled, “I am a Triathlete and I Don’t Roll on Shabboos.”

(So, you have come full circle in some ways.)

David Roher is a USAT certified triathlon and marathon coach. He is a multi-Ironman finisher and veteran special education teacher. He is on Instagram @David Roher140.6. 

He can be reached at [email protected].